Humanity
by Prince Aoyagi
Summary: Ritsuka, a college student, is asked to take in a pawfoot, a type of animal almost identical to humans, named Soubi. It doesn't seem that bad, until he's informed that Soubi was unwillingly part of a fighting ring and is to be euthanized after a court date for killing a human. However, Ritsuka grows close to Soubi and realizes that he's not a pet at all, but rather, human. AU.
1. Pet

Please read the notes at the end of the chapter!

* * *

It definitely struck him as odd as soon as he saw the cage. The work he was doing at the animal shelter was required in order for him to graduate, but it was something Ritsuka enjoyed. Dogs, cats, puppies, kittens, even the occasional horse—he was the person who played with them and fed them. It'd been two years since he'd started this job, and while obscure, strange animals sometimes made their way through, he'd never seen something quite like _this_.

"Good morning, Ritsuka-kun!" The receptionist, a fellow student by the name of Yuiko, chirped as soon as he walked through the door. Ritsuka felt his lips twitch upwards in an easy smile, and he wholeheartedly returned her enthusiastic greeting and waved. The animal shelter was a nice place. It gave him an escape of sorts, someplace he could go after days of stress and borderline depression. His therapist had recommended the volunteer program here, and Ritsuka had taken up the offer when it was made clear that in order to graduate, university students were required to volunteer out in the world. And honestly? It was one of the better decisions he'd made. It'd clearly made him happier over the short time he'd been working here, and he often wondered if he could get a full time job here. Probably not. An animal shelter/veterinarian clinic wouldn't want a kid with a double major of photography and psychology, but thinking of that seemed to kill the happiness he was granted by working here in the first place. So he didn't dwell on that.

Ritsuka was used to the routine by now. Talk to Yuiko for a few moments, write his arrival time in, meet with the veterinarians, and see of what help he could be. There was definitely something off today, though, and Ritsuka had noticed it right when he'd walked through the door. There was a certain air of…discontent? He didn't feel as if that was the correct term for it, but it was there, and it was like walking into a fog that suddenly made him extremely alert. When he went to the desk, Yuiko said nothing to him, and she was suddenly fallen with silence as Ritsuka wrote his time in. He forced himself to break the silence, smiling again and asking her, "Where's Doctor Kuungi?"

Yuiko's smile seemed forced, but she nodded in the direction of the veterinarian sector of the building, "Last door on the left." And then returned to her work at her computer.

Last door on the left—

The storage room?

That was odd, but Ritsuka went, aptly navigating his way through the hallway. He was curious, of course, and the clinic was oddly silent. There were usually barking dogs and yowling cats filling the silence. That was part of the reason Ritsuka liked it here so much. It was never quiet. It made him feel safe, for some reason, and the silence now was very unsettling. He tried not to allow it to get to him, but despite being an independent adult, it was difficult. Silence at home had always meant that violence and pain was lurking right around the corner. Every few moments, he would pause in his steps, just to remind himself that he was _twenty_ now. He was an _adult_. His home problems could no longer reach him here. He was making it on his own.

Ritsuka took another pause when he reached the door. It was more of a hesitation then, though. He knocked twice—his common greeting—and then pushed the door open to the storage room. He'd only been in here once or twice, so it was unfamiliar to him, but—

Oh god. What the hell was that _rancid_ smell—?

It smelled absolutely vile, and Ritsuka had to cover his mouth and nose as he stepped into the room. He didn't recognize the smell, but it made him gag and cough until he finally got used to it. It wasn't the smell of waste or anything of the sort, but more as if something had simply curled up and _died_. He glanced around the large storage room, his eyes immediately finding Doctor Kuungi's. The man was always as he was—stiff and professional but friendly. Though now, his expression was somewhat different. He seemed almost…discontent? There was definitely something that was causing him to be uncomfortable. Was it the scent? Ritsuka could still smell it, though it wasn't as strong as it had been when he'd walked in. No it was something else, and that something was where he was looking, rather than at Ritsuka.

The university student followed his gaze. A cage. That wasn't so uncommon, of course. Animals in the kennels were almost always caged. But this—

This was different.

Because curled up against the side of the cage, body scarred and beaten, was a child. A human child. Not an animal. Not a dog, nor a cat. But a child.

"Doctor—" He didn't take his eyes off of it, crouching down to hook his fingers in the bars and—

"Ritsuka-kun, no!" The slap came hard against Ritsuka's wrists, reminding him of days past when violence had been a common occurrence in his life. He lost his balance, falling backwards and hitting the tile floor hard with his butt. His eyes still focused on the caged kid, mouth agape. That was a child. A beaten, thin, caged child. It'd been hurt—! It needed medical attention. If it didn't get that soon, the wounds could become infected easily. Ritsuka knew that much from experience. He also knew what it was like to be locked away like that. And he wouldn't let any other kid go through that. He would've unlatched the cage. He would've fought back against his superior. But he just. Couldn't. Move.

"A child…" The whisper fell from Ritsuka, hanging in the empty, stomach-churning air for just a moment. "A child." A child in an animal clinic. A child who'd been hurt badly. A caged child. Something wasn't quite adding up here. Ritsuka couldn't quite put two and two together. Even if the kid was violent, it didn't belong here. It belonged in a hospital regardless. It was human, right? The form seemed human. It had long, blonde human hair. The part of its face Ritsuka could see were human. There was no hair on its pale arms and its hands were human shaped, as well as its—

It occurred to Ritsuka just an instant before his superior said it.

"He's not a child. He's a feral animal. You've never seen one in person, have you? Just on TV. He's not human, Ritsuka-kun. He's a micropoda."

Sure enough, its—no, his—small feet were shaped like human foot sized paws, and Ritsuka had failed to notice the ears angled backwards on his head, and the tail that protruded from the…whatever sort of rag he'd been put in. It was true. Ritsuka had never seen one in person. Their common name was pawfeet, and the singular version was pawfoot. They were pets. They hardly lived beyond seventeen years, and they were very docile creatures, from what Ritsuka had seen. They were well-behaved little pets. Their owners treated them as if they were dolls—something that had always made Ritsuka slightly uncomfortable since _they looked so much like humans._ They were rare, as well, and Ritsuka had only got glimpses of ones with their owners on the streets. He'd never been so close to one. It was odd for him. A minute ago, he'd just been viewing him as a person, a human. Not a pet. Not an animal. But suddenly it was obvious that he was just that.

The tail, the ears, the feet, the muzzle that Ritsuka could only catch a glimpse of: it was all obvious now. He wasn't human. He was human-like, but not human. It was disgusting, the way he suddenly could look at the pet again and feel not as upset over seeing it in a cage. It was, after all, an animal. He didn't see how he'd seen it as a human—it was clearly a micropoda, with the features that were so obvious now. It became acceptable that it was in a cage and in the clinic, treated like the animal it was. In that single instant of realization and then confirmation from Doctor Kuungi, Ritsuka's own mind had stripped away its personhood, leaving something he'd thought of as a poor, helpless child, as an animal far, far beneath him, and on the level of a dog or a cat.

He now pitied it. He felt sorry for it. It was something deserving of his pity, and the pity he felt for it wasn't the same sort of sympathy and empathy he would feel for another human. It was the pity he often felt for the injured kittens he helped care for. It was something that shoved him even further beneath Ritsuka himself and stripped away what was left of his personhood. He no longer thought it needed to be out of the cage or cared for any more than his wounds being treated. The sight of him didn't disturb him. It almost became something Ritsuka was used to, all because the thing in the cage was an animal, despite its human skin and face and abilities. He was still unsettled by the sight of it, since its skin was scarred and the stench of it was still there, but it no longer surprised him.

"Fe…ral?" Ritsuka heard the word uttered and didn't recognize immediately that it was from him, and that he was repeating the doctor's words. Feral meant wild. Wild, uncontrollable, and violent. When a feral dog came in, it would growl and bite and strike to kill. Feral was not the term Ritsuka would use to describe the pawfeet he'd seen on television. He remembered them as docile, obedient things. He remembered having to stay home sick from college once, not long ago, and feverishly turning on a random program to watch. It happened to be a program on pawfeet. It'd been with some famous talk show host—Ritsuka couldn't currently recall the name—and she'd had guests. There'd been a young one, six or seven, who'd been dressed up like a child's doll. Her hair had been curled and fairly obviously bleached, her dress clearly much too satiny and frilly for her liking. He'd watched as the crowd had howled with laughter as she'd tried to read from a children's book. 'Reading is for humans,' She'd said, her voice that of a young human girl. 'Not for pets.'

At the memory, Ritsuka tore his eyes from the scrawny animal in the cage, looking back at Doctor Kuungi. He watched him nod in confirmation. Feral. This thing wasn't like the gentle creatures he'd seen before. He was violent and—

"Do you know what, exactly, gets these types of animals that name?"

Ritsuka immediately shook his head, "No, Doctor."

The doctor sighed in response, and he suddenly looked very old. "Ritsuka-kun, these animals are violent by nature. I don't expect you to know that, though. A micropoda being particularly violent isn't what earns them the term 'feral'."

Ritsuka didn't understand where he was going with this. He really understood nothing at this point, and that was frustrating, since Ritsuka was someone who strove for the truth and only that. He didn't like beating around the bush. He didn't like it when people took so long to just _get to the point_. He wanted to know why he was here. This was really the first time he'd been so frustrated with Doctor Kuungi. The man was usually very straightforward. Ritsuka met with him every day to receive his instructions on his tasks. He had to have been expecting him. There was no way he couldn't have—so why, _exactly_, was he here?! To be introduced to a new animal? An animal that would have to have medical care and wouldn't show up in the rescue clinic for weeks anyways? That couldn't be it. Ritsuka respected this man, and there was no way he could be _that dense_.

"I…see," Was all he could say, mostly out of shock and confusion. "Then why—?"

The doctor cut him off, "This animal's name is Soubi. Perhaps you've heard of him on the internet or on the news. He's become the face of debates over his kind. Some say that micropodas need to be eliminated. Others say that they need to be treated like humans are. Both sides cite his case. This animal is here because he killed a man, and he needs a foster home until his put-down date. He appears in court beforehand, hence why he's the face of the debates. No one will take him. You're our only hope left."

* * *

Hello again! Most of you know me from my old account, CheyWolfe. This fanfiction is sort of my coming back from hiatus? I won't be using that account anymore, though. I will be rewriting a lot (Healing, Revival, Mind Maps)! This is something I've been working on for a bit though.

Most chapters will be longer than this-this is really just a sort of introduction to story. They'll be around 5,000-9,000 words? I've been trying to get back in the swing of writing, so I'll try to update every week! A lot will be explained in the story, but I will say that canon Fighters are canon pawfeet. So, Soubi, Tokino, Nisei, Natsuo, and others will all be 'pets'. Everything else will be explained in canon, but please leave questions so I can address them later on!

Comments of any kind and crit is very welcome and encouraged! I'd like to know what people think of the concept, and feedback/reviews/whatever helps encourage me to write more. Thank you!


	2. Reason

2-Reason

Ritsuka was going to be honest.

He really had no idea what was going on.

He had no idea how animal control had gotten the cage up here without waking the sleeping beast. He had no idea how they'd gotten past campus officials. He had no idea how they'd even patched up the pawfoot so fast. He had no idea why the thing was still asleep.

And worst of all, he had no idea _why_ he was even doing this.

It was a bad idea, he'd told himself. This thing was a _killer_. Kuungi hadn't given him the details, nor did Ritsuka particularly want them. But they really, really needed a foster home for him. He was too big to keep in the clinic, they'd said. He was a killer, though, and Ritsuka still wasn't sure that he wanted to live every moment of his life in utter fear of the animal. He'd had enough of that during childhood. A killer. He was keeping a killing animal in his home. Weren't animals that killed humans supposed to be put down right away, anyway? He thought that was the case. Killing dogs were immediately put down. So were wild animals. They were seen as dangers to others, and they were almost expected to harm another person. He wondered why he _hadn't_ be euthanized, but that wasn't the complete issue at hand. The issue in hand was that the killer was here right now, in his house, still tranquilized and heavily asleep, and the even bigger issue was what, exactly, was he going to _do_ with it?

He hadn't ever cared to research anything about pawfeet. They were rare and expensive pets, and Ritsuka hadn't ever expected to have one. He hadn't ever _wanted_ one anyways. What he'd seen of them on TV left him feeling odd. It made him uncomfortable to see something so human-like be showcased as a doll and entertainment for others to watch. He'd honestly tried to stay away from them as much as possible, which really wasn't hard, considering he was a university student and most of the people he associated with were poor students, as well. The pets hadn't been around for long, either. Twenty years, and that was being generous. He knew next to nothing about these animals, and now that he was faced with one, he could only sit and stare at it, as if watching for any movement.

It looked so human like, and Ritsuka was easily able to ignore the ears, tail, and feet. The muzzle was hard to look past, and all Ritsuka could imagine was teeth behind it, ready to snap his jugular. He did have to admit that he was curious about the murder he'd committed. How had he done it? Had it been a violent one? Kuungi had told him that their species was particularly violent. The main question Ritsuka was asking, though, was why. He wondered if there was a reason in the first place. Did pawfeet need motives? Were they even capable of having them in the first place? Despite not knowing much about pawfeet, Ritsuka did know a bit about other animals, and what he knew was that animals that were violent by nature didn't always need a reason. A dog raised in a feral and competitive environment could easily bite the hand that fed them without any real motive. He was afraid pawfeet were the same way.

Finally, Ritsuka sighed, getting up from sitting cross-legged on the wood floor. He couldn't just sit there and stare at the animal all day. He had some work to do—emails to get out, cameras to charge, projects to write up. Not that he really wanted to do any of those at the moment. Ritsuka was usually no procrastinator, but he simply didn't really feel up to doing anything today. It was a Saturday, anyways. He still had Sunday to complete what he was supposed to and turn it in. He stretched, raising his arms high above him and straightening out his back after hours of being seated on the floor. This provided him relief, but only momentary, since his eyes almost automatically dropped to the cage, looking again at the figure still fast asleep against the side. With a sigh, he resolved to just leave it—he should definitely be doing some research on how to care for the species.

And with that, Ritsuka resolved to sitting at his laptop at the tiny kitchen table. The first thing he saw, however, was the email to his father he'd been writing.

_Kiyoshi—_

_ Please forgive me for my harsh tone in my last email. I apologize. You had every right to scold me. Thank you for the finances you've sent. It's more than enough. You don't have to send that much. I get along just fine. Is Mother doing well at the Institute? I'm glad everything is going well in America. Everything is fine here, too. Enclosed is a copy of_

It was a pathetic message. Ritsuka had been scolded for allowing to get his negative feelings towards his father involved in the last email. It had been after a heated verbal argument over the phone about Ritsuka's mother and the past. Ritsuka didn't want to think about that now, though. He saved the email and closed out of it, coming upon another one he'd written to Yuiko but hadn't sent yet.

_Yuiko-chan—_

_ I'm really happy to hear that you're in most of my classes next semester! Sorry for not messaging you back until now. I've been really busy. Would you like to go to the amusement park next weekend with Yayoi-san and I?_

_ -Ritsuka_

_ (PS: good luck on your finals! I heard Shion's is hard!)_

Even he couldn't ignore the contrast between the two emails.

Not wanting to think about it, he moved on, pulling up a search of simply 'care for pawfeet'. It yielded a good number of results and Ritsuka settled himself down for a few hours of reading.

Just a little nap, he'd told himself. His eyes had grown tired and heavy from hours of reading about care for pawfeet. Five minutes, he'd thought, laying his head down against his warm laptop and letting his eyes finally fall shut, almost immediately falling into a light slumber. He'd been sitting stationary at the kitchen table for hours, reading about how to feed and care for pawfeet. He was sick of even looking at the screen. His nap was most definitely _not_ five minutes. It was more like two hours, and it proved to have been a grave mistake to even lay his head down in the first place, since his light slumber was very suddenly interrupted.

"Hey."

Ritsuka didn't recognize it at first. He did nothing, only slightly roused from his sleep. He was tired from not having slept much in the past week. Things had been busy at school, and unsettling at home. It was nice to finally be getting some rest, and he'd rather not be disturbed from his peace. It didn't feel odd to him that something was speaking. He was in a sub-conscious state—nothing seemed odd to him when he was like this. However, the voice wasn't about to let him be, instead resulting to yelling to get his attention.

"Hey!"

_That_ got Ritsuka going. He jumped, eyes flying wide open, hitting his head with a loud _Bang!_ on the computer screen and then the keyboard. Suddenly, he was wide awake, without a single blink of slumber left in his eyes. Nothing in his house should be talking to him. He was the only one with a key. Nothing except—except that feral animal! He sat up, rubbing the spots in his head that he'd hit, the room darkened with the night that had fallen while Ritsuka slept, and slowly, as if at a last resort, his eyes settled on the cage, where he found none other than the animal himself. It was lying on its back, the restraints on its arms keeping them hugged against him like a strait jacket. The muzzle lay on the floor of the cage, and the boy was peering up at him, his head on the floor of the cage, long matted blonde hair tangled on the cold-looking bottom. In the moonlight that came in through the window, Ritsuka could see the faint bruises along his bare legs and the scratches that looked like someone had taken a knife to him.

He stared at the animal, his eyes travelling up and down the scrawny body, never quite meeting its eyes. Its muzzle was off. Somehow, someway, Ritsuka realized with another wave of fear crashing down on him, that he'd somehow broken the straps on it and gotten it off. He could hurt Ritsuka now. Would he? Ritsuka wasn't about to find out. He stayed in his spot, unable to suppress the slight trembling that ran through him. He was afraid. He was afraid of something in his own house. He was afraid of an animal that was lesser than him. And that was pathetic. He couldn't be afraid. He was an adult now, a grown-up. He could do this on his own.

He still couldn't speak, though, and only sat at the kitchen table, trying to gather himself up and get the courage to say something. As a result, he sat there completely dumbstruck and making a fool of himself. He had to do this. He'd promised Doctor Kuungi, a man who'd done so much for him, that he'd take care of it. Ritsuka was a man of his word, and he most definitely wouldn't let himself be known as anything other than that. He would do this. This was an _animal_, after all. Ritsuka had to get used to looking down upon it, rather than only seeing the human face.

He watched as the pawfoot's lips twitched upwards in a smirk, his sharp canines showing and eyes narrowing as he did. "What's up? Cat got you tongue? Or are you dumb?"

Ritsuka hadn't been expecting that.

Wait, no. He had. He had been expecting that, but he hadn't been expecting _that _to come out of his mouth.

One reason pawfeet were both so controversial and wanted was that they were very, very human like, but they never really grew that tall or got very smart. Ritsuka could sort of see the appeal—they were sort of like a family pet who a child could play with and talk with. They could be dressed up in frilly, ridiculous clothes, used as servants, used as toys for children, or they could even be treated like children themselves.

Children that could be euthanized whenever the owners got tired of them.

The point of the matter was yes, they could talk. They picked up language from humans and had very similar language capacity and language acquisition devices (Ritsuka was suddenly thanking himself for still remembering that part from Psychology 101). They could pick up any language at all, and Ritsuka had heard of a few that were bilingual, and they spoke fluently and knew the meanings of the words they spoke. It was phenomenal, and even Ritsuka had to admit that it was interesting—it'd been one of the only things he'd been interested in about pawfeet prior to this. But the situation was that he'd never heard one talk like this. Pawfeet often talked like children around six or seven years old. Their owners thought it was cute. They were praised for not having the intelligence of a human. Ritsuka hadn't even thought they'd had the capacity for the type of language a teenager would speak.

"Dumb…?" Ritsuka repeated, raising an eyebrow and again looking it over again. How old even was it, anyways? Eight? Nine? It spoke with a confident voice in a tone that Ritsuka could only describe as very _human_ and it caused another feeling of discomfort to resonate through him. It had spoken to him like Ritsuka was an equal, not an owner, not a human. It was occurring to him now that he might have even more trouble than he'd first expected with this thing.

"Yeah! Dumb. Mutes. Like people who can't talk, though obviously you can, but you still seem pretty stupid to me," High-pitched, cackling laughter suddenly broke through the room. He was exactly like an insolent little kid who didn't want to listen to authorities. It was giving Ritsuka a headache, really, but he just couldn't seem to break out of his shock. This animal was speaking to him like a human would. It was below him. It wasn't a person. It couldn't be…completely sentient, could it? It seemed pretty vicious right now, with its cackling laugh and insults. It went on, speaking with a tone that made it seem as if it was excited, its words tumbling out of its mouth and nearly jumbling together. "Hey, did you know that sometimes in other countries, totalitarian governments cut out the tongues of traitors? They make them mute so they can't talk anymore. It's pretty common, actually!"

He…

He really didn't know what to say.

He had no idea at all.

Aoyagi Ritsuka was rendered completely speechless. It was as if everything he'd known about the intelligence of pawfeet had been pitched out the window. Here this animal was talking about punishments in remote parts of the world, as if it was common knowledge of his, like a know-it-all sort of kid. An animal, he had to remind himself. This thing was an animal. It was nothing more than a dog or a cat. It was less, Ritsuka realized. It had killed a human. It was vicious and feral, and it wasn't even worth life, according to the law. Ritsuka didn't think it had a motive. From what he'd just witnessed, it seemed pretty heartlessly cruel. He had to take control of this situation. He had to discipline it, like he would discipline a dog. He had to. He had to. He had to stand up and yell and lay down the law. He had to, but it was hard to look past the scars and human face. It reminded him of being in a similar position at one point in time.

"Hey!" He forced himself into it, using all of the strength in his body to stand and slam a fist down on the table to shut the yapping animal up. It wasn't human it wasn't human it wasn't human. It was an animal. Just an animal. "Don't—You won't talk to me like that!" Ritsuka was simply glad he'd caught his mistake. He could only imagine that 'don't talk to me like that' would've induced more hyena laughter. Ritsuka was met with utter and complete silence, though. The animal said nothing, his blue eyes widening with—what was that? Fear…? Was it afraid of Ritsuka? He had been harsh and loud. He'd yelled at him. Being yelled at wasn't very—no, he'd deserved it. Soubi was an animal, anyways. He shouldn't feel bad for yelling at a naughty animal. And with that, Ritsuka suddenly felt better, though the guilt didn't completely disappear.

He watched the pawfoot closely. It moved slowly, obviously struggling to get itself up into a sitting position without using his bound hands. Ritsuka fell silent, as well, wordless as he took in the animal, hanging its head in what looked to be shame, ears angled downwards. In the silence, he suddenly became aware of his own heavy breathing, leftover from the adrenaline from forcing himself to yell and punish. He kept his eyes focused on the pawfoot, trying to calm himself and think about this situation in a rational way. It was fully hitting him now—keeping this animal in his home. Ritsuka had never had a pet before due to not being ready for one yet, and now he was stuck with this very human-looking pawfoot. It was a big change, and Ritsuka knew immediately and without any question that he _was not ready for this_.

The silence between them was deafening. Soubi didn't talk, and neither did Ritsuka. Ritsuka didn't take back his harsh words, nor did he apologize to Soubi. There was no need to do so. He was only punishing a troublemaking animal. If he wanted Soubi to obey him and behave well, then he'd have to punish him and not take it back. It was hard, though. Ritsuka didn't like yelling. He knew how it made others feel, so he just didn't yell at people. He wasn't someone with a short fuse, so making him angry in the first place was rather difficult. But Soubi wasn't a person. Ritsuka could yell at him with only minimal guilt. It was alright, all because of the wolf-like ears and tail and the paw-like feet. If Ritsuka hadn't seen them when Doctor Kuungi pointed them out, Ritsuka knew very well that he'd still be treating this thing like a human child.

"Are…Are you my new owner?" The defiance and fire was gone from the animal's voice, and Ritsuka felt himself relax. He'd made Soubi submissive, or at least for now. Ritsuka didn't know just how long it'd last, but it was relieving for now, though Ritsuka couldn't quite ignore the fact that that was a _killer _that looked very _human_ in that cage. He wouldn't raise his head to look at Ritsuka, though, something that Ritsuka found very strange. After all, just a minute ago, he'd been cackling harshly, his eyes wide with the menace, insulting Ritsuka left and right. And now he seemed submissive and quiet. Such an easy change. He'd gone from one to the other in just a few seconds. Thankfully, he seemed to be staying like this at least for now.

"For now, yes."

That was the only way Ritsuka could think of to answer such a question. He wasn't his owner. Not really, at least. This was foster care, if anything. It was the same as fostering a dog or a cat, though this was a killing animal. But it wasn't as if an animal would understand the prospect of foster care over ownership. Animals were…They didn't have the capacity to understand that, right? That was what separated animals from humans. It had to be. Humans were of higher intelligence. They had a higher capacity for thought and emotion. They were complex, intelligent beings who could communicate, create, and solve. Animals couldn't do that. Animals had a capacity for feeding, breeding, and self-care and that was about their entire lives. It was so much simpler, and that was why animals were below humans.

Ritsuka finally fully relaxed, sitting back down in the dining chair by his laptop, still watching the pawfoot as it continued its silence and gloominess. With a sigh, Ritsuka fixated his attention back on his laptop, as he really ought to finish the email to his father before he got another passive-aggressive message from him.

_I'm glad everything is going well in America. Everything is fine here, too. Enclosed is a copy of my transcript from this past semester, as well as the copy of my classes I'm taking this semester. I'll try to visit at some point in the near future, though I've been really busy._

A lie. Or—an exaggeration, rather.

_Booking and whatnot is a hassle and is rather expensive, though I'm sure I have enough saved up. Please keep me updated on Mother. _

_ —Aoyagi Ritsuka_

He pushed send and then—

"What's your name?"

The pawfoot's voice didn't shock him like it had the first time. Ritsuka didn't jump or startle. He glanced at Soubi, wondering for a moment why an animal would want to know its master's name. It did seem fairly intelligent, much to Ritsuka's surprise, so maybe it just wanted something to call him. It still wasn't even looking at him, and that still unsettled Ritsuka.

"Aoyagi Ritsuka," He told Soubi, frowning. How was he—supposed to care for this thing? It was so small, like a child, and dirty and skinny, like he hadn't eaten in days or weeks. It didn't look like he'd been cared for very well, but Ritsuka assumed he'd probably been living on the streets without an owner, though… He seemed strangely submissive. Not to mention intelligent. He'd also said 'new' owner. He'd had one before. Had that been who he'd killed?

"I'm Soubi," Was its simple reply.

Ritsuka shut the laptop, his interest piqued again, "Don't you have a last name? I thought pawfeet were required to have one. Not that I know much about your species—"

The pawfoot raised his head slightly, long blonde dirtied hair falling into his eyes and across his face. Ritsuka was able to catch a small glance of bright blue eyes looking up at him. He said nothing, suddenly struck speechless by the animal in the cage and the human face it had, contrasted by the perked ears on top his head. It looked like a slave, like an animal, with the matted hair, beaten skin, and the rags it wore. And yet, the skin, the face, everything was human except for the feet and extra appendages. It hurt to look at him. Ritsuka didn't want to have to. He wanted to turn away, to shove this animal back to Doctor Kuungi's office and never have to see it again. God, it hurt.

The pawfoot spoke before he could, though—"It's Agatsuma. Agatsuma Soubi."

And that was how it began.

* * *

I'm glad the first chapter was well-received! Please let me know what you think of this one, as well.


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